Tuesday, 24 February 2009

Telesales trauma

Telesales was the victor - I the loser. I slinked away tail between my legs. The second job I’ve walked out on in three months. Before telesales there was retail on Oxford Street but earning £5.95 an hour (no uniform allowance either) was to hard to live on. Counting pennies and a constant knot in the stomach from financial worries was too much. Telesales had its own battles. Fake orange office light, everyone talking about their sales figure for the day - in most cases this replaces hello, constant calling, rude people, phone slams, saying the same thing over and over all day. In two months I have had two potential customers asked if I was calling from a pub because of the office chatter.

It’s my second day of unemployment and my internet, my main job searching tool does not want to connect! I’ve tried everything. The network coverage in my house is terrible, one conversation is usually conducted through ten phone calls. My last resort is to wait...

I had a bad experience of a call centre myself today! My mobile company, 3, called me at the end of my lunch break saying I was a valued customer and I would get this, this and this. I decided to go ahead with it, as she said it would take two minutes. Fifteen minutes after my break had ended, I was still on the phone. To be honest I was trying to be nice because of my call centre experience, and I couldn’t afford a good mob after my old was stolen (my bag stolen in a central London pub) and here they were offering me a new pink one. At the end she started talking about my card details and I just didn’t have time, she backed me into a corner insisting she would call me back after work to complete the sale. She didn’t so I presumed she had given up, I was relieved as I had decided against it, more money out each month and tied to the network for longer. It was forgotten over the weekend.

On Monday I was furious to find a pink phone. She had processed the order against my will. And for the credit check she said I needed, accessed my debit card again without my will and without my knowledge. When I phoned them, they asked me why I was cancelling, when I told them, she starting telling me what a great deal it was. SHE WAS TRYING TO SELL ME THE PHONE I DIDN'T WANT IN THE FIRST PLACE!!!

image: Frozen fountain, Trafalgar Square, before the heavy snow fall that stopped London if only for a day

Monday, 16 February 2009

London - a taste, its yummy

Just after valentines day and in love...with my city. Today at a bus stop an elderly Chinese woman had around four or five plastic bags on the floor and she was desperately trying to organise them, beside her was one of those personal shopping trolleys that everyone seems to have these days. I had nothing else to do so I watched her for a bit, fretting and tending her carrier bags. Until the contents dawned on me. They all had broccoli in them. Nothing but broccoli. Even her trolley was packed to the top with broccoli. No bags of broccoli. Just broccoli.

Everyone is here in London. In halls last year I lived with a Russian girl, a Jewish girl from New York, a Cypriot male, a Mexican actress, an Irish lad and an Irish girl, a girl from Hong Kong, and a Belgium girl.

My first flat (which was above a shop in New Cross Gate, that had no double glazing nor central heating, and towards the end a hot tap that only gave out cold) was with a half Nigerian German girl. And now in my new room (in a large shared house in Hackney) the last of the original Korean group has left. Crazy Dancer from Mauritius has sadly gone too. The Turkish, Italian and the Argentine have been joined by an Eastern European man. The diversity of my house is really the only thing that gives it charm. Right now the toilet light bulb needs replacing, and has done for days, its either go in the dark or leave yourself to be exposed in house of six bedrooms, with only two of those rooms (mine included) having a single occupant. To add to this you have to gas yourself before the hobs on the stove turn on, and actually put your head inside the oven to light it manually, a mountain of rubbish bags on one side of the path and on the lawn the rotting corpse of a couch. I have also just been made the only female now the Korean and Bangladeshi girls have gone to be replaced by a French man and his friend a French speaking African male.

The weather has variety, not long ago the fountains in Trafalgar Square froze and then the snow, that stopped London if only for a day, came and now its sunny with a taste of spring in the air. And if I had money I would love to join a gym that classes include: boob aerobics, chav fighting, bitch boxing, saints and spinners and stiletto workout.

The images were captured on one night. The guy dressed as batman was a busker, taken near Waterloo Station. Pink Panther and friend was taken near Gordon's Wine Bar (Westminster)London's oldest wine bar and family-run underground tavern. Home to Samuel Pepys in the 1680s.